


Tribute (the Raise Your Glass Remix)

by MiraMira



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Friendship, Gen, Oaths & Vows, Prequel, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4227900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partway through a drunken bar crawl is hardly the proper place to make a solemn vow of friendship and loyalty.  Fortunately for the universe, George Kirk and Chris Pike don't care much for propriety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tribute (the Raise Your Glass Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brenda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Tribute](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364863) by [Brenda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Brenda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda) in the [remixmadness2015](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2015) collection. 



> I loved the idea of George and Christopher's vow from your story, Brenda. But when I tried to think about how it would have happened, George refused to stay serious - which I guess makes him his son's father. I hope you still find this in the spirit of the original.

"Third establishment we've been asked to leave tonight," says Chris, with a rueful look from the friend whose shoulders he has slung his arm across as a precautionary measure to the rapidly receding bar in question. In the lit doorway, he can still make out an enormous silhouette that must be the bouncer, watching to make sure they keep going. "Going for a new record, are we?"

George shakes his head so vigorously Chris fears he'll make himself dizzy. "'S not my fault they don't appreciate a good sing-along." He opens his mouth wide and bellows in a baritone more notable for its enthusiasm than its harmonic qualities, " _I'll take you home again, Kath—_ "

Perhaps it is a trick of the light or his own nerves, but even from this distance, Chris thinks he sees the bouncer tense. He claps a hand over George's mouth. "Don't."

"Fine, fine," says George. Or perhaps more accurately, _"Mmmphfine,"_ as he works his way free. "They'll be sorry anyway, when we're heroes of the Federation."

"We won't get to be heroes of the Federation if you're thrown out of the Academy on demerits," Chris reminds him.

George waves his free arm dismissively, causing both of them to stumble. "Won't happen. 'S written in the Starfleet. Stars. Densi—desit—Fate. Alla that stuff."

Chris stifles a laugh. "Think the disciplinary committee will buy that as a defense?"

"No," admits George. "But we don't need to worry about them, 's long as we look out for each other." He nearly knocks Chris over as he comes to a sudden halt and looks into Chris's eyes with an unnervingly serious—and sober— expression. "We'll always be friends, right, Chris?"

On second thought, perhaps Chris has overestimated the sobriety part. "Of course we will," he soothes.

"Promise," George insists.

Chris holds up his hand, and (not without a certain degree of trepidation) lets George go to place the other one over his heart. "I, Christopher Pike, do solemnly swear by all in the universe that I hold to be true and good, that no matter what obligations or how many light-years may separate us, George Kirk and I will always be sworn friends and allies in our duty to the Federation and to each other."

The oath starts out in a lackadaisical, sing-song tone of voice. But as Chris goes on, he realizes he wants George to know how much he believes everything he's saying. He would, in fact, die for the man beside him: lousy taste in music, inability to hold his liquor, delusions of grandeur, and all.

Or maybe he's just starting to get buzzed himself. Still, that doesn't necessarily make it any less true.

"So let it be witnessed; so may it be," he finishes, and feels a chill run down his spine in the silence that follows. "Your turn."

But George is shaking his head again. "Has to be in blood."

"Seriously, George?"

George just looks at him.

Chris blinks first, with a sigh. "C'mon, let's go find bar number four. I'm not drunk enough for this yet."

He expects George to forget the idea after another round. After his third or fourth Andorian ale, he expects to forget the whole thing himself. But when he wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and a thin, rusty line across his palm, the vow remains. And as he catches sight of George in one of the study pods, bent over Professor Nechayev's extra recommended reading with a curious degree of focus, he knows he's not the only one who thinks its persistence is the universe's way of telling them they'd better keep it.

-

Decades later, as Captain Pike stares into an angrier, more disillusioned, but no less determined mirror of his old friend's eyes, he feels the same cosmic nudge. He'll never know if George thought of their promise as he piloted the _Kelvin_ on its last fatal flight, the way Chris did when news of the ship's destruction came over the fleet announcements. But he knows he can't just leave the embodiment of everything George never got to be to molder on a bar stool in some tiny Midwestern town whose name he barely recalls, when the whole galaxy is out there waiting.

 _So let it be witnessed; so may it be,_ he thinks, and turns around to go talk some sense into Jim.


End file.
